


In the Wake of the Universe

by potatoscribbles



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Yokai, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-07-28 15:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7646014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potatoscribbles/pseuds/potatoscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right or wrong, to live or to die: who really gets to choose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! potatoscribbles here and this is a yokai au I thought of and wanted to build upon!
> 
> \- it's originally supposed to be akatsuki / 3A yokai au, but it has exploded into this phenomenon so I hope you enjoy the ride!  
> \- there will be more possible ships, but I want to continue to add more kuro/chiaki content to ao3 so for now, they will be the only pair in the relationship tag until more ships develop.  
> \- there will be some elements from a collaboration I discarded since I am no longer in contact with the person; I just didn't want them to go to waste. to that person if they ever find me: (finger guns) bye~ (laughs)  
> \- I will try to update as much as I can, but school is rolling in close for me, so once I start my semester, please bare with me on any inconsistent updates (bows repeatedly)

Kuro remembered only the darkness. For ions, he laid cradled in the blanket of the universe that was consumed by dark matter. It was quiet; the darkness being nothing but a blank canvas painted black and his movements were nothing more than whiffs of air that passed through time. He wanted to paint the universe in a big bang.

Then the voices began to appear. At first, they came inaudible like high frequencies of cicadas clustered in a summer net, but they soon formed into balls of light with distinct voices as different as their own brightness. The darkness was met with spots of light as if fireflies came alive in an open field, floating until they glued themselves in the vast night sky. They spoke to Kuro about their desire for imagination and creation. Worlds built from dreams and aspiration, he listened to them as if the bedtime stories could never end, as if the day would never meet dawn. One was fond of Kuro: the first light. Its glow had started to fade like a glow stick that had burned for far too long. Its name, so it claimed, was Kiryu and he admired Kuro to exist alongside him. He had grown old, like all things do, so he felt it was time to fade back into the darkness.

“To what will be of your world?”

“It had spiraled into its own devices. I would like you to see it, but I don’t think it would be wise.” Kuro held the ball of light, the glow illuminating his entire being.  “What's a lifetime between friends?” The light faded before exploding. The darkness was completely lathered into a blinding white light. Kuro reached out to it, but his body was weighed down by a searing heat of burning ashes. His eyes opened to an over saturation of trees, their leafs speckled like rain-spotted windows. The white highlights of the sky burned his eyes like an over processed photograph, his body feeling a surging pain to his head for the first time.

He felt a cool sensation to his body as if he had washed up shore on low tide. He had realized he was, in fact, surrounded by ash and someone had spilled a wooden pail of water by him. “My god…”

A man draped in red and white stood before him, his long amethyst hair tied back into a high ponytail and a samurai sword holstered around his waist. Untying his outer layered robe, the man swaddled Kuro with it and pulled him out of the ashes, onto his feet. Kuro could feel his weight drag against the ground like burnt coals as if his feet sunk into ocean soaked sand, his body heavy as if he was shackled to the core of the Earth. The man carried him still, all the way to a temple on top of a hill where he was met by another man. The two laid him on a futon in a room hidden at the back of the temple. The earthy essence of sandalwood with the hint of lemon balm calmed his body as if he was drinking an herbal tea in the summer breeze. The voices were deep and faded like he had been submerged into a fishbowl, gazing at the world from within.

“Souma, where did you find him?”

“In a burnt field by Dead Sea’s Cavern.”

“And he was unharmed, you said?”

“Yes sir.”

“It is peculiar. Impossible, to say the least.” He heard the door slide open with light footsteps approaching, harmonic bells ringing against his eardrums. Kuro’s eyes fluttered open as he saw the two men hovering over him. One knelt next to him, his pine green hair parted at the middle like curtains revealing his face. His calculative stare was hidden behind metal spectacles and his shamrock green eyes were highlighted in the shadows.

His eyes trailed every inch of Kuro, examining him like a new specimen. He observed how his blazing red hair could have been the cause of the fire he was buried in or how that hair over flowed his face, tousling over his pale jade eyes that glint an intimidating glare like a dragon. He pressed major artery spots of his body for any internal bleeding. Holding out Kuro’s arm, Keito examined the inner linings of his bicep and forearm, only to have his pupils to disappear once he reached the palm of his hands. Unlike palm lines that intersected like blood coursing through his veins, Kuro’s palm lines were blue that curved over like scales, imprinting themselves until they coiled toward his ring finger like a hand fan. “Can you tell me your name?” the man asked.

Kuro tried to mouth the letters that spelled out his name before nodding. “K-Kuro…”

“Nice to meet you, Kuro. My name is Keito and this is my apprentice, Souma. He was the one who rescued you.” He could only nod in gratitude; Souma nodded back.

“Do you know where you are?” He shook his head.

“This is a temple of worship to the dragon god, Kiryu—”

“Kiryu.” The name was so common to him more so than his own as his eyes softened into beams of light, a smile spreading from cheek to cheek. Keito stared at how his eyes gazed back at him with the eyes of a child: full of interest and curiosity that brightened his entire face against the sun.

“Yes. He was a god that took care of this temple and the wishes people brought to him.” Rubbing his hand with his thumb, Keito stared at the markings on his palm once more. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“For a favor.”

Keito was taken back at the answer as he tilted his head, his brow rising sharply at the thought. “I think you were meant to take care of this temple. You would tend to the people’s needs.”

Kuro’s gaze met Keito for a moment, floating toward Souma, before back at Keito once more. “If that was what Kiryu wanted. I will do so. I want to see the world he saw.” He closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh. “But my body still feels heavy. May I rest? It smells nice here. It’s soothing.”

“Sure. We’ll leave you alone.” Kuro could hear the protests of Souma, only to be quieted down by the other. Their voices became whispers like the sound of ink being scraped onto paper. Then they faded, and he was met with the darkness again.

♦♦♦ 

A lone figure sat in his Victorian styled room. The blood of his fallen knights lathered his curtains in a royal red, dew drops from the sun stitching them at the seams. He sat at his mahogany wooden desk, seals carved into the legs of the desk. Golden yarn interlaced his fingers, trailing the empty chessboard in front of him. Waving them around, the strings dispersed into glittered dust like fairies as the man created chess pieces that scattered across the board. They shaped into animals created from terra cotta clay as they spawned onto the playing field.

His fingers froze in place like a pianist pausing before a riveting piece as shadows loomed over the chessboard. A dragon, coiled into itself, laid before the opposing king as it spiked its scales like a pinwheel. The man picked up the dragon, examining the details of it as the strings tangled onto it like tumbleweed. Suddenly, the man crushed the clay within his hand, crumbling it into dust before it reappeared itself before the king once more. “Mika!”

A man entered the office, staying close to the doorway. He resembled a black cat, his black hair flowing over the bridge of his nose like a lion’s mane. His hazel eye was piercing like headlights in the dead of night whilst the ice blue of his other was hidden behind an eye patch. “Yes sir?”

“Bring me Tenshouin.” Mika disappeared behind the door only to be replaced with another man whose pale blond hair looked to have been painted with moonlight. He was garbed in white as if doves pulled his sleeves off his shoulders, revealing the white bandages wrapped around his torso and chest. His white robe was accented with a golden band that tied at his waist to hold his silver rapier on his left. His white pants belled at his ankles like rain drops that mirrored the color of his eyes and a red trim lined his robe like molten lava had harden onto white snow. A flare of the room light glistened onto the irises of his eyes as he stared back at the man. He was quiet, the only noise coming from the clacking of his sandals as he entered the room.

The golden thread tied around Eichi’s neck and wrists, loosely spreading as if he had been dipped into milky starlight. The other pulled the dragon from the chessboard, letting it levitate before Eichi’s eyes. “I have a job for you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone, potatoscribbles here! I apologize if there is a lack of suspense right now. I'm trying really hard (flails) to keep the suspense going whilst at the same time introducing characters along the way. I hope you are patient with me. (bows)

Kuro sat down next to Souma who was maintaining the garden outside of the temple. The scratching bristles of the broom against gravel blended with the wind that rustled against the trees. The tranquil of it all relaxed him as he laid on his back to watch the clouds drift by, swirling into the sky like white cotton candy. Souma observed the other and how he could rest with such ease, a brow raising sharply in speculation. “Where’s Keito?” Kuro asked.

“He’s preparing for your training.”

“I see.” Kuro lifted his hand towards the sun, his eyes fixated at how the morning star lined his fingers and dousing his palm lines in an orange hue as if he was somehow normal than what he did not understand about himself. Souma’s gaze floated to the sky, watching the maple leafs ruffle in the breeze. When a single leaf broke free, it floated down into the palm of Souma’s hand.

“Hey” he called, “Would you like to hear an old, local folktale?” Kuro perked at the thought of new stories he had missed as he sat up, allowing the other to sit next to him. He held the leaf up to the older, twirling it between his fingers. “Long ago, the Earth gave life to many things out of the deep fire in her heart. The cycle of life came that one must give back to the Earth what he takes. Once he enters the world, pulled out from the Earth, he will eventually be placed back.” Souma held the leaf in front of the other as he observed how the leaf’s veins were similar to his own. “Because of that belief, all living things are interlaced with the Earth. Legend has it: if you pick up a maple leaf and let it float to the sky, it could lead you to your soul mate.” He stood up, dusting his pants and picking up his broom. “Well, in this day and age, it’s best not to find out those things, right Ku—”

Souma’s eyes skyrocketed as the rough rustling of leafs indicated the disappearance of the other. Kuro had climbed the maple tree to its peak, gazing at the world below the temple. “Kuro! What are you doing?!” He ignored the other as he plucked a single maple leaf, watching it glow between his fingers like melted gold. He quickly let it go, watching it take flight with the wind, before he jumped from the tree to chase after it. Souma tried to chase after him, but he was already gone.

The world moved like repeated pictures rolling on old film, the colors blending into a watercolor palette. The forest blended into a camouflage gradient and the bustling town spiraled into a murky brown. The only thing in focus was the maple leaf pirouetting in the wind like a ballerina dancing on a sky painted stage. It fluttered down, descending in flight, as Kuro pounced for it, his eyes gleaming in excitement. The crashing sound of flesh on broken gravel and the soft blow to the abdomen instantly brought Kuro back to reality as indistinctive voices loomed over him. “I’m sorry” he told, pulling the man to his feet.

There was something about him. Like the way he was wrapped in sable like his soul had consumed a graveyard or that he had a fur trimming that resembled the feathers of a raven. The silver etchings in his fabric were like tiled walls that could not be broken down, but the red trimmings that coursed the seams of his shoulders to the center of his chest reminded Kuro of the color fate. He ignored how the man was hidden behind a mask, its pure white porcelain somehow strong enough to take the fall. It looked like an elongated cat, the black paint lining its closed eyes and curled mouth. Kuro was curious of the mask, but more so how his maple leaf was tangled in the man’s auburn hair, blending into it like a hair pin. He tried to reach for it, only to be yanked back from the collar.

“You, what are you doing?!” Keito barked.

“Ah, about that—”

“Never mind, just come with me.” He arched Kuro’s back, forcing him to bow forward before pulling him out of sight, leaving the man on his own. He observed them go as he pulled the leaf from his hair, examining it more closely. Pulling the mask off, Chiaki gazed at the disappearing figures, his red eyelids winged with red eye shadow as it accented his autumn brown eyes like a slow burning campfire. He turned away, his identity disappearing behind the mask once more, as he crumbled the maple leaf in his hand and entered to a deeper part of town.

♦♦♦ 

Keito explained to Kuro that he had much to learn about their world. There were humans, like him and Souma, who usually had to depend on one another for various types of strength. They are fragile with skin made of rice paper and muscles made from tissues. And then there were the “other”: the ones that go bumping in the night or the ones who strike fear so deep into one’s core that they are incapable of doing simple, every day rituals. Monsters with such impending strength, a mere human must study his whole life to earn a fraction of its strength.

“What does that make me?” Kuro questioned.

“With everything comes variation” Keito explained, “It would be unwise to treat things in a categorical sense. It is far too simple.” A small carriage appeared in a light fog of the forest, its curtains painted with the sky and sea. “But the reason I retrieved you here was that I had made arrangements with Kiryu’s old friend who lives at the bottom of the ocean. He has information of who you were.”

Kuro entered the carriage as it began to soar up into the sky. His gaze found the window, staring at how Keito shrunk amongst the fireflies and trees. He contemplated the lesson he tried to teach him, but he was only met with confusion as the cart plunged into the deep waters. Kuro was amazed at how much life existed under the pressure of the ocean. School of different fish danced around the carriage like a carousel and a giant squid peered into the window for any stranded morsels to feast upon. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was the kind of variation Keito was trying to describe.

The cart landed in front of an ocean’s palace whose silver coated gates were similar to an undiscovered Atlantis. Two large moon jellyfish appeared before Kuro. They morphed into women with braids that coiled all the way down to their backs like tidal waves. Their long, transparent like dresses were sewn with silver moonlight and raindrops as a crescent moon pattern coated the rims over their chest. They bowed before him, guiding him into a large room that looked like an underwater aquarium dome.

A lone man sat at a table, blowing small bubbles out of his wooden pipe. He resembled the coral reef with how much color exploded from his aura such as the way his blue robe ruffled quarter long like the tail of a crowntail betta. His pink overcoat that draped over his shoulders had the accent of the bubbles he blew and were the color of his marine blue hair. Like others, he had red accents like the thick bow around his sapphire blue jewel. It matched his red coral earrings as a crème corset curled at his waist, ruffling like seashell crowns. His jellyfish pants belled at the bottom, flowing like he too was submerged in water, as he stood up to meet Kuro. He shimmered like an Australian rainbowfish while he held his hand out to him. “Kiryu—ah, your name is Kuro now.”

“Ah, yes—um?”

“Kanata.” He offered a seat at the table for Kuro to sit, handing him a rounded glass. The blue elixir was of butterfly pea flower with jasmine tea. Mixed with the lemon Kuro added, the formula turned purple like the galaxy was dipped into sunlight. Silence filled the air as the tea flowed through his body.

“Keito said you could help me understand this world.” Kanata took a sip from his tea, his eyes staring at him like sea foam shimmering from crashing shores. Kuro realized there was another hint of red as butterfly wings painted the other’s eyelids. His gaze was broken when the other closed his eyes, offering a small chuckle.*

“You could only learn about this world from experience.” Touching the seashell that clipped his collared robe, Kanata formed holographic images from his bubbles. One mirrored Kuro, with his hair spiked back besides a single fly away that rested on his brow. He was speechless at the amount of resemblance he had. “Do you remember? Do you have any of his memories?”

Kuro stared at the figure as if he was staring at his own reflection in the water. He shook his head as he turned away from the image. Kanata touched the table, the glass releasing ripples as images of different silhouettes appeared in flashes. “At first, it was like a war had sparked. It seemed clear that monsters, in different forms, were deemed superior beings as humans lived in fear. They lived separately, growing separately as a species, like two trees growing alongside each other. Some monsters were good, some were bad; the same with humans.”

Kanata moved the images forward like an animation film focused on Kiryu. “As I am the sea, Kiryu was the sky. He was a god that moved the Earth and was guided by the moon. He worked to control the unity between man and monster, but his powers exceeded most. Lightning, blizzards, tornadoes, and earthquakes—all were recipes to his command. If the Earth had the will, he had the control.” In the images, Kuro could see the shadows consuming Kiryu at the center, disappearing into nothingness. Kanata pointed at his hands, their glow appearing in an icy hue. “Those powers lay dormant in you and that’s what makes you a threat.”

A key appeared in the glass. Its gold lining had molded into a lightning bolt, its core curving into a crescent moon engulfed by flames. “Kiryu gave this to me before he passed. Maybe it could be of some use to you.” Kuro took a hold of the key as if the flame had lit a spark in his eyes. He was then met by the other’s familiars again. “I am being summoned, so I must end our arrangement.”

He had so many questions left unanswered. So much time he wanted to spend were slipping passed his fingers as if seconds had become sand and the dome had become a broken hourglass. Without protest, he could only offer a “It was a pleasure meeting you, Kanata.”

He was greeted with another soft chuckle.* “We should enjoy tea together again.”

Kuro was carried away in the carriage once more, but he was met with the rolling sea as large waves stretched to the sky, flooding itself into a neighboring town. Kuro watched as the town was engulfed by steam, the ocean diminishing a fire spread. At the center, he made out three figures. He speculated one had caused the fire as a blue will-o-wisp flickered in the palm of his hand. Another, he recognized solely from the garb he wore that blended with the night. As the carriage flew higher and the steam wrapped around the figures to nothing more than dusted lines, Kuro understood he had a lot to learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I don't use honorifics when writing my stories even though I feel like they may have some type of importance. if you feel like using honorifics makes sense to you, feel free to imagine them there to your liking (laughs nervously)
> 
> \- *in the Kanata scenes where he chuckles, it implies that he says "puka puka," but I wasn't sure if "puka" was just a thing he says or if it's supposed to represent a noise similar to laughter like "fufufu." in this case, I'm keeping it safe and using it as a laugh synonym.


	3. Chapter 3

A key—a key that had to unlock something, but what, Kuro did not know. He let his imagination runaway with him. Maybe it unlocked a library of scrolls documenting all the stories he used to tell him or maybe it kept all his heirlooms from the war he fought with Kanata. He held the key in the palm of his hand, fantasizing the possibilities of what he could unlock with this key.

He sat in the room where herbs mended his skin like vapor rub. He couldn’t tell Keito or Souma about his travels at Kanata’s palace nor could he tell him about the men he saw in the steam cloud. The way they coddled him and beat around the bush of the every topic he brought up: how could he do anything they wanted? He scoffed as he tore a string from his robe for the key, turning it into a necklace he tied around his neck. _Some God_.

He heard the ringing of bells, his body dragging him to the door. He paused as he noticed a silhouette of a woman, her hand clasped together and her voice barely louder than a whisper. “God, I hope you can hear my prayer.” Kuro’s eyes softened, his legs crossed before the door window, as he placed his hand on the wooden frame. “The temple was worn down, so I was scared to come. But lately, the air has grown cleaner. That’s because you’re here, isn’t it?” Kuro kept his breath light, the only noise being the whistling sound of his exhales. “There was a fire near the village I live. I plan to bear a child in the coming months, but if a fire occurs in my village, there won’t be enough vegetation for my family to last the winter. Please, if you can hear me. Bring appropriate weather for my child so it could to be born into this world.” She was greeted by Keito before her silhouette faded away like a whiff of smoke from a perished fire. Then he was met by Keito and Souma as the sound of sliding door buzzed open. They offered Kuro to join them for dinner.

There were fried mackerel and pickled vegetables. The smell of cumin and cardamom from the pork curry hurt his nostrils, but his mouth watered as Souma handed him a bowl of freshly steamed rice. They sat quietly for a moment before Kuro took the floor. “What happened at the village?”

“There were some vigilantes that set fire to the council’s office” Keito answered, “But no one was hurt.”

“These vigilantes, were they demons?” Keito put his bowl down, examining Kuro’s words.

“Why do you ask?”

“I think I saw them. No, I _did_ see them. There were three of them and one had a fireball in his hand like he had caught a falling star.” Keito stood up, the table rattling underneath him. Kuro couldn’t focus on his reaction. All he heard was the sound of wood scratching and porcelain shattering. Souma tried to pick up the pieces to no avail as his hands began to shake beyond his control. His gaze found Keito, his brows narrowing with harsh pressure.

“Why would they be all the way out here?” The tension of the room weighed on Kuro’s body like muscle numbing fog. Why aren’t they facing him honestly? He did not understand.

“You know them, don’t you? Souma? Keito?” He observed the way Keito and Souma glanced at one another, their words getting lost between the empty spaces. Placing the broken items in the bin, Souma tried to be subtle.

“There are certain monsters that are like fallen gods—”

“They’re not fallen gods” Keito cut in, his voice hoarse from the pressure of not wanting to raise his voice. “They’re a bunch of hooligans with illusions of grandeur. They’re known to ravage cities and rob them of all their resources.” His eyes met Kuro, his arms crossed as if he was trying to cover himself. “It’s bad enough you don’t have your powers. But now we have to worry about hiding you from these outside forces.” His voice trailed off, like the static at the end of a sad song or a damaged channel, as Kuro gazed down at his spilt food. Keito walked over to him, his arm wrapping around the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. We just got you back and we won’t lose you again.”

 _That’s what he said_.

But as Kuro closed his eyes that night, he could hear the careless whispers of concern that laced Keito’s and Souma’s voice. They spoke of the impending strength the three had. How they embodied three animals: a fox, a snake, and a raven, but their beings loomed over Kuro as if he had shrunk to a molecule, to nothing. He was unaware of this feeling that tore his heart to shreds like shadows feasting on him. But monsters who lived long fairytales, could tell the tale he needed— _or so he thought_.

When the voices died down like the blowing out of a candle, Kuro snuck into the night. He left behind a sole piece of parchment with the spilled ink that documented his departure. He strolled through nature’s gloved hand. The night was different than the light or the darkness he once knew. The forest was covered in silhouettes like shadow puppets, the fireflies splattering in front of him like glow-in-the-dark paint. The nostalgia came in waves as the balls of light grew larger with voices that whispered in broken static. He was met with a purple haze as the road gained a fork in the road, leading him astray. As the town lit up like a summer’s festival, Kuro felt sweat peak on the back of his neck. People in porcelain masks had eyes slit like snakes and mouths that stretched far into the corners of the mask, bearing large teeth the size of ice cubes. Cold sweat beaded his forehead when he realized they weren’t masks but contorted faces of the dead. They reached out to him with fingers as if bare tree branches were ready to break from the base trunk. Before Kuro could react, their bodies burst into flames before his eyes, their bodies withering like rice paper and their cries rattling like thunder against the scorching flames. “Oh, seems a couple of demons having some fun?”

The first thing Kuro noticed were how “human” these men looked to him. They reminded him of Keito or Souma in the way they stared at him with an upturn brow. Yet they reminded him of Kanata in the way that blood painted their eyelids and their eyes narrowed like hidden gems. The man who spoke was the one Kuro recalled starting the fire and filleted the demons just moments before their meeting. His sandy blond hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and his white rob had slits in his shoulders that were colored in a midnight blue as if it tore the fabric of time.

Another male, one Kuro had yet to associate any memories with, had his nickel robe loosely plastered onto him like a tombstone stuck into the Earth. Scales speckled the robe as blue lines accented it like a river flowing through his body. A blue band kept his robe together with a single red string shooting through it as white bandages covered his chest. Ice blue shards, like the color of his eyes, printed his left collarbone and shoulder. Yet the one thing Kuro couldn’t help but stare at was the black feather on his left ear and how it resembled the man next to him.

His mask was off, revealing how round his earthy orbs were. His aura was softer than the other two, like a shy child beside two intimidating older siblings. Their eyes met for a moment as Kuro counted the lines on his irises as if he was trying to read the Morse code of his thoughts. The snake slithered forward, staring up at the other with an intense glint in his eyes. “Kaoru, how’d a human get here?”

The fox repelled his fire as he glanced over at the raven who kept staring at Kuro. “I don’t know. He does have an interesting smell though. Different than any human I ever encountered. Don’t you think, Chiaki?” He remained silent, leaving the other two to interrogate Kuro. “What should we do with him, Izumi?”

He scanned the older. He counted the amount of centimeters he was taller than him, or how a human could possibly fake looking that strong. The image of Kuro eluded him. “State your purpose.”

Kuro stared back at him, his gaze unwavering as he crossed his arms. “I was looking for you three.”

Bearing his fangs, Izumi grabbed the older by the collar, ice creeping onto his skin like a virus. But his hand became unsteady as the other pulled back. Revealing his necklace, the key slipped out of his robe and floated in front of Izumi. He thrashed Kuro into the ground, a slurry spinning in the palm of his hands. “You sure have some guts coming here.” His breath was cold, like the shiver that shook one’s spine, but the other was unmoved as if he was a mountain grounded against the wind. The snow became a spinning vortex of ice spears, all pointing straight at him. “Do you really think I could forget a face like yours?!”

“I think you’re mistaken, Izumi” Kaoru protested, “His aura is different from him.”

“Are you blind?! He looks exactly like him! He has the seal of him on the palm of his hands! To add on, he has the key to Ruins!” Kaoru froze at the other’s response, his mouth spelling out the name of the previous holder. His voice had shrunk within him and Kuro was left to guess his charade. _Kanata_.

“Wait—” Kuro pleaded, his voice draining to a strained wail, “You know about this key? Tell me, tell me what it unlocks!”

“Get off me” Izumi hissed, his ice shards tearing his clothes and slicing his skin. He felt the warm liquid trickle down from his cheeks. While his fingertips smeared the blood, he observed the consistency of it between them. His fingers started to glow like fireflies, his focus faltering, as Izumi’s voice became a bunch of jumbled drones. “Do you understand the situation you’re currently in? You are in no position for negotiating.”

Suddenly a rapier pierced Izumi’s shoulder, a few inches away from his heart. The silver sheen was masked with blood as black smoke dispersed like an airborne disease. The group turned their focus to the man who began to float down to his feet. “Great” Kaoru scoffed, “If it ain’t the plague of the Itsuki Empire.” Eichi’s stare was like daggers that pierced into the caverns of their souls, his blue eyes laced in the shadows of his fallen victims.

“Although there is a price for your heads” he announced, “That one over there is top priority.”

Izumi blocked Kuro from him, his body staggering as blood soaked his robe and dripped onto the floor.  “Like hell you are, we had him first.” Eichi’s eyes shifted to him. Ice against Ice, a blizzard formed between them, spinning into the longest winters. He let out a soft sigh, contrary to the snake’s expectation, as he formed a closed eye smile.

“I don’t think you understand.” Izumi’s eyes became blood shot, his pupils the size of a toothpick, as blood spurt from his lips. It was coated with black goo, spreading until it burned into a black dust that imprinted the ground. He groaned as his nails dug into the ground, tearing at the grass. The other opened his eyes, narrow like a pair of half moons. With a condescending downturn of his lips, his gaze found Izumi as if he was nothing more than a parasite.

He lifted his hand, his rapier getting pulled out of the snake and landing back in his hand. The swiftly put his sword by his side, spraying the blood off his sword cleanly. “You weren’t that much of a threat to begin with.”

Izumi glared up at Eichi, but the walls of his throat were caving in as he hissed in pain. But Eichi ignored that draining life form before him as he moved passed him, standing in front of Kuro who was on the ground in shock. “It’s best if you follow me now before things get worse.”

Kuro’s gaze relayed back and forth between the man who stood before him and Izumi who was being treated by the others. The hole in his shoulder blade was shrinking, but it was being consumed with darkness, its markings tattooing his pale skin. His thoughts were covered by the heavy panting that was growing weaker. “I won’t do it” he told.

“What?”

“I said, I won’t do it” he repeated, “You’re no threat yourself.”

Eichi scoffed as he pointed his sword at the tip of the other’s nose. “The bounty didn’t specify whether you should be dead or alive.” He lifted his arm, with his sword behind his head, as his lips parted with a blurred out voice. “I guess I should thank you for deciding it for me.”

Before he could thrust his rapier, he was frozen in place. His eyes shifted at three points per second as he tried to understand his inability to move any faster than if he was in quicksand. He could see everyone else was doing the same and he could see Kuro’s hands up, his hands glowing into a bright blue hue like two blue giant stars had exploded into stardust. He could see the details of his palm lines and how they lit up his face, revealing the pale blue scales that lined his cheekbones.

Kuro noticed the freedom in this moment as he moved in normal time. In his surroundings, time had lost its luster, flowing slower as if the world had become a single tortoise: _one second_. He stepped forward while Eichi followed him with pinhole pupils. Dark clouds loomed above Kuro, his hands burning his skin. He winced as a throbbing pain surged through the temporal of his forehead like electric shocks: _two seconds_.

Air began to spiral, a hurricane attempting to make contact with the ground: _three seconds_. The hunter gained the ability to move faster, his body finding his rhythm, as Kuro stepped away from him: _four seconds_. Time was flowing freely again, revealing the result of Kuro’s limited strength. Everyone was spinning vastly into the sky, their bodies ripping and rattling against the crashing sound of wood and rock. The rapier zipped passed him, reeling back like a boomerang while everything spun into a huge blur. Lightning flashed, electrifying a tower far off into the distance like a comet crashing into the Earth. Kuro could not control the hurricane’s direction nor could he end the light that blared like a neon sign to the world. The only control he had was the hand reaching out to him. The last thing he could remember was his only instinct to hold onto it.

 _Five seconds_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone! potatoscribbles here once again!  
> \- in the upcoming chapters, they'll be similar to a one-shot collection, focusing on the characters individually (with a looming tie to the overall plot to keep them connected of course!)   
> \- this work will now start facing more inconsistencies with updates because I will be starting uni in 9 days. I'll try my best to offer one more chapter before then!  
> \- I just want to say, thank you for all the views and kudos that have been given so far! it really gets me going (shoots confetti poppers)


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